


Me & You (song fic)

by Azrazae



Category: Bill Skarsgard - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 02:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18983758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azrazae/pseuds/Azrazae
Summary: I wrote this all in one sitting. Probably took me 45 minutes... Based on the song ME&YOU by EXID. Hope you enjoy the ANGST! Please enjoy the song while you read! (https://youtu.be/g9wfhJRyur8)





	Me & You (song fic)

"Please, we can't do this again. Baby, you know I didn't mean it."  
You heard his cries as you yanked a suitcase down the stairs. You were done with Bill's bullshit.  
"Stop saying 'we,' Bill. Everything is so obvious from the look on your face." You yelled back, hauling your luggage through the dirt to the trunk of your car.  
"You wanna try and fool me again? Go do that shit to your mom. I don't care." You slammed the trunk shut and moved to get to your car door, but instead, your face met Bill's chest.  
"Please, you know I wasn't flirting with her. You know I'm not like that." He whispered, putting his hand to your cheek. You pulled away as if his touch was acidic.  
"Stop acting as if nothing happened! I'm sick of your excuses!" Your eyes burned into his soft green orbs. You once found them enchanting, but now they seemed hollow and lifeless; like doll eyes.  
"Just come back inside. I'll make you a cup of hot chocolate, okay? Extra marshmallows? Just how you like it. We can have a night in, just me and you." He couldn't even make it a request; it was a demand.  
You furrowed your brow and clenched your jaw, "You know, usually I would let this go, but no. Not this time. No more of this 'me and you' shit. It's over."  
"It's not over. I still love you." He leaned in to kiss you, but you slapped him.  
"Who the hell do you think you are? We aren't a couple! There is absolutely nothing about you I am even remotely intrigued by anymore. I'm good."  
When Bill opened his eyes, they were a stinging red. You almost thought you saw a tear beginning to form. You could feel the bile rising in your stomach as you used your strength to push him off you.  
"Oh, what? Are you going to cry those crocodile tears? Oh, boo-hoo!"  
You walked toward the car door again, muttering to yourself, "There's no 'we.' What a joke."  
He grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him again, he kissed you softly. You wanted to fight, but for some reason you let him. What harm would one final kiss do? When you finally parted, you touched his cheek.  
"Oh, baby, why?" You whispered, "We're complete opposites, from A to Z and you don't get it. This can't be a thing anymore. No more you, no more us."  
So he let you go, watching you pull out of the driveway and into the cold autumn breeze. You could see his unwavering, tall figure from your rearview mirror as you left. You rolled your eyes. You were absolutely, positively, done.

You had spent three days in a hotel, partying with friends in celebration of your new single-womanhood. You were tired, so you settled on your bed with a glass of wine, turning on your favorite Netflix show. A few minutes in, the phone to your room rang. Curious, you picked it up.  
"Hello?"  
"Miss, you have a call from a Mister Curtis? May I patch it through?" A gentleman asked from the other end. You cocked an eyebrow. You didn't know anyone with the last name Curtis. Cautiously, you agreed. A part of you wasn't surprised when you heard Bill's voice coming from the other line.  
"Hey," He began, you could almost smell the alcohol through the phone, "Why did you block my number?"  
"Why don't you mind your own business?" You replied, harshly.  
"Because I care about you, don't you get it? I'm a fucking wreck without you!" He cried, slurring his words.  
"Don't try and mix me into your life, I don't want to hear it. Don't tell me about your feelings."  
"Sötis," He started.  
"No, Bill. You always used to know just what to say, but it doesn't work anymore."  
"Just listen!"  
"I am listening! Do you want to know what I'm hearing, Bill? You're drunk again, calling me! Stop making up stories! How can you be so obvious?" You yelled so loud, you feared your neighbors might bang on the wall.  
You smashed the phone down on the receiver and covered your face with your pillow, screaming your frustration into it until you fell asleep.  
When you woke up the next morning, you had a hangover that had only strengthened by the crying you had done in your sleep. The banging on the door sent a lightning bolt straight through you. You knew it was Bill. The smartest decision would be to call the cops, but you knew in your heart you still weren't entirely finished handing his own ass to him.  
You opened the door and took the bouquet that you had half-expected from his hands, tossing it behind you.  
"Cold." He observed.  
"Icy." You sneered.  
"I still miss you."  
"It hasn't even been a week. You that desperate for pussy? Why don't you go pick up some bimbo?" You crossed your arms.  
"Because I don't want some bimbo. I want you."  
You closed your eyes. Tears almost began to well up. He was beginning to wear on you and you knew it, "Fuck, Bill. You know, the words you say are like," You grabbed the bouquet off the floor and shoved it back in his hands, "They're like the thorns on these roses. They pierce me. It's almost funny. The roles you play: Roman, Pennywise; You're the greatest killer—villain."  
He stared at you, not sure what to derive from your words. Were you insulting him? Complimenting him? His face read pure confusion.  
"So what are you going to do? You aren't getting a second chance from me." You elaborated. He simply stood there, still speechless, "I just hope that one day you'll meet someone as fucked up as you."  
"Wow, okay. That's fair." He smirked.  
"Our paths have always been different. Ever since we met. Remember what I said before? You don't get it. We can't be a thing anymore. No more you, no more us."  
"Please, just give me one more chance."  
"Bill, I want you to go away, tonight. Don't come back, or I will call the cops."  
"Please."  
You slammed the door and locked it, sliding down to the floor and crying silently, just in case he was still outside the door. You couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't handle him anymore. All you could hear was the sound of your own words echoing in your head, like a sad song.


End file.
